


principio de lucha (clavar la espada)

by jeanheir



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampires, Angst, Historical References - 1800s, Illness, Loneliness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26881177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeanheir/pseuds/jeanheir
Summary: He has known the repercussions of taking a human lover for centuries now, but even so, he can’t help but despair at Jun’s frail body, a deadly sickness draining the life out of him day by day.
Relationships: Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20
Collections: SVT Fear Exchange





	principio de lucha (clavar la espada)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [occultclysms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/occultclysms/gifts).



> hi noah, happy birthday! i struggled a lot while writing this - because i had (way) too many ideas and not enough time but i hope you enjoy it all the same! 
> 
> i was heavily inspired by kim newman’s anno dracula series while writing this haha
> 
> p.s title taken from bleach’s las noches collction because im THAT obsessed with it
> 
> thank you to the lovely isis for beta-ing this fic for me :D

Warm water, warm temperature, warm blood. _Everything_ _was warm._ Better yet, everything was burning. 

The smell of old herbs and vinegar is strong against his senses, each minuscule detail easy to single out. If he tries hard enough he can almost taste the fumes, hot against his tongue. 

The body beside him shivers,  _ Junhui’s body, _ and the sheet above it is ripped clean off. The man is soaked in sweat, skin flushed and hair an unruly mess. The strands that stick to his skin make his eyes flutter in a way that Minghao knows Junhui hates and he brushes them away with a gentle hand. 

Junhui’s lips turn upwards slightly, mimicking a smile. It’s a weak attempt but Minghao cherishes it nonetheless – even riddled with pain, the other man was beautiful. He brings one of Junhui’s hands up to his mouth and presses his lips to it, sighing softly. The noise that escapes his lover is something between a laugh and a groan, both of which Minghao cherishes infinitely. 

He had known the repercussions for taking a human lover for centuries now, even so, he can’t help but despair at Jun’s frail body, a deadly sickness draining the life out of him day by day. 

Perhaps it had been selfish of him to wish to spend eternity with the one he loved, and this was the punishment for said sin. Minghao doubted that any priest or vicar would argue with said statement anyway, they had their own prejudice against his kind that ran thick with hatred throughout thousands of years. Whatever was written in their sacred texts deemed the undead unsightly and unworthy of their sympathy. 

Of course there were exceptions to this trend, but Minghao had yet to meet any who followed through. 

He’d met Junhui in the year of hansom cabs, selfish monarchy and drab weather. The sky was a stormy grey and the civilians of the town he’d been visiting momentarily were no better. In that solemn country Junhui had been his haven, a comforting warmth that would never be extinguished.  _ Or so Minghao had thought at the time. _

The other man had been sitting alone at a table in a bar, scribbling notes upon notes down on his yellowed parchment paper, a far cry from the intoxicated rambles that surrounded him. Minghao briefly remembers guiding himself through the mess of benches and tables that had been pushed aside by a group of drunkards, keeping his gaze on the other man’s crouched form. 

Pubs weren’t his usual scenery (one could argue that country-hopping from place to place wasn’t either, and he wouldn’t have much of a reply) but something about this particular establishment had drawn Minghao in. From the outside it was nothing more than a common tavern, but the underlying traces of tainted blood were hard to ignore.  _ Something  _ had met its end in the building, for reasons obviously ‘supernatural’, as the warm-blooded called situations like this. 

The common vampire, however, would have great ease with recognising the signs of the newly turned and so, he strode onto the establishment with his interest piqued for the first time in a while.

‘ _ An aspiring author’ _ is what the man, Junhui, had referred to himself as Minghao pulled himself a stool.  _ ‘One with far too much time on his hands’.  _ The two of them had easily fit into a familiar pace and the concept of strangers gradually fell away as more drinks were shared and more tales were told.

The scent he had picked up earlier was still around, somewhere, but Minghao found himself too absorbed with Junhui’s steady heartbeat. This was stability,  _ what he needed.  _

As the night began to fade away into morning, the two began to retreat towards a structure deep in the woods south-east of the town, guided by Junhui’s slightly intoxicated rambles. Ironically, Minghao thinks, he should be the one guiding the human out, not the other way round. 

He can’t remember how it happened but their arms had linked together on the way, Junhui’s wolf-skin coat rough against his own. 

Junhui slipped his key through the cabin’s padlock with the ease of a sober man and once again, Minghao wondered what sort of mess he was getting himself into.

The cabin’s interior was made of fine wood and polished surfaces, with little personal items save for a few scattered books in what he had assumed was a chest of sorts. The collection looked dated, at least a few decades old if the worn spines were anything to go by. He was unable to name them though they appeared to be from a western country. 

Minghao allowed Junhui to lead him towards the woollen settee positioned in the middle of the room, swept up in the other man’s wave of control. 

The details of the rest of that night remain in the fraction of his mind that easily brings a fond smile to his face.

At the moment, Minghao’s expression couldn’t be more different. 

As though a switch had been flipped, the room’s temperature began to drop at considerable speed, and what could be mistaken for the slow and steady beat of a drum was actually the gradual decrease of Junhui’s heartbeat. 

If he were a human his hands would be shaking, disbelief and denial clouding his vision until he could no longer think straight. Unfortunately, neither actions were proper of a creature like himself. All Minghao could do now was gently embrace the other man’s body, vowing to never forget the warmth and kindness that had been showered over him by the human lying motionless in his arms, soul gently slipping away into the realm that he himself would never be able to reach.

He takes the wet rag off of Junhui’s forehead and places it on a nearby table, movements suddenly awkward. The cabin felt too big for one, a feeling he’d never had to experience since his first meeting with Junhui. They had matched together in a way that was absurd for outsiders to even think about – 

In the end, Minghao had lost. The long drawn out fight between kind and creature had finally ended, and once again, he was alone. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments and/or kudos are greatly appreciated <3 
> 
> you can find me [here!](https://mobile.twitter.com/jeanheir)  
> 


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